


A Destiny Meant For Two

by Pearlfectly_Defective



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: A little Opalescence backstory, Filly Rarity, Gen, Opal POV, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7045195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlfectly_Defective/pseuds/Pearlfectly_Defective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Opalescence was leading a simple life in Ponyville, much to her displeasure, when a chance meeting with a certain pony causes her to question everything she knows. A dream begins to take shape, one that she will go to great lengths to achieve. Little does she know, she's not the only one with this dream...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Destiny Meant For Two

The sound of hooves clip-clopping across the floor roused me from yet another attempt at trying get some beauty sleep. It had only been a few minutes since I was finally able to tune out all the distractions and doze off, only to be woken up again by Rarity's incessant pacing. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I glowered at the source of the interruption, ensuring that my annoyance couldn't be any more apparent. However, my discontent was the last thing on Rarity's mind, and neither was anything else but the task at hoof. She raced from one side of her workroom to the other, frantically grabbing fabrics and other materials for her latest ensemble that sat half-finished on one of her ponyquins.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen her like this; she had a tendency to bite off more than she could chew and usually ended up running herself ragged trying to meet whatever demands she was expected to fulfill. Sweetie Belle would occasionally pop in and bring her food, but because Rarity was the sole cook in the house, or the only competent one anyway, everything was usually burnt to a crisp. That didn't stop her from trying though, she inherited her sister's tenacity, and whether or not that was a positive thing.... well, I'm still unsure. She once brought Rarity a charred piece of carrot cake and a glass of water that I swear to Celestia was also burnt. Rarity never complained though, it was all she was going to get, and she would momentarily pause her work to take small bites of whatever black substance happened to be crusted on the plate.

Suddenly a white-hot pain ignited in my tail, eliciting a screech of agony from me as I scampered under the bed.

"Opal! I'm so sorry, darling! I didn't even see you there!" Rarity called after me. Her voice was heavy with guilt, but apparently my well-being wasn't a pressing enough concern for her to halt her work for even a second.

With a hiss, I swept in my tail, wrapping it tight around my body. My fury never lasted long though; she'd done this so many times before and I knew it was never on purpose. I decided it would be best to stay out of harm's way and simply watch her work with the same aloofness every cat observed others with.

As the hours ticked by, my indifference gave way to concern as Rarity became more distraught the more time slipped away without much progress on her part. Her impeccably styled mane was disheveled; her curls still held their shape, but stray strands of hair were sticking out everywhere. Behind her glasses I could see bags under her bloodshot eyes. Her going without food never really worried me, but when she neglected her appearance this way, that's when there was need for concern. Usually Rarity's work bored me and I never had any interest in assisting her. The only assisting I did seemed to do was against my will. I couldn't help her even if I wanted to, paws weren't meant for anything but walking and batting yarn, but this time, I found myself wishing there was something I could do. But again, I wasn't really interested, and I've seen what Rarity is capable of when she puts her mind to it. She could handle things just fine on her own, and now that she had settled down at her work bench, the soft hum of the sewing machine being the only sound in the room, I was able to finally fall asleep.

When Rarity finally ceased her work it was several hours later when Luna's moon shone brilliantly in the sky, and only because she had exhausted herself to the point of collapse. I'd woken up from my cat nap completely famished and I could hear salmon calling my name from downstairs. When I'd left the room she was toiling away at her sewing machine, humming a little tune to herself as she often did to try and stay awake. It was the same song that I'd had the terrible misfortune of being in center of when she'd sung it as one of her impromptu musical numbers. I never minded when Rarity took so much joy in her work that she felt compelled to burst into song, she had a spectacular voice, but when it involved getting rolled up in fabric and being tossed about like a ragdoll, I had more than a slight problem with it. I am not a Ragdoll, although one my mentors in Canterlot was one and she was always pleasant to me, I am a Persian, and I wished to be treated as such.

After five minutes in the kitchen enjoying a midnight snack, I returned upstairs to find her fast asleep on the floor beside her workbench in a pile of gabardine and taffeta. The sewing machine was still on and punching the same stitch into the bunched up fabric over and over again.

Rolling my eyes at Rarity's inability to know when to quit, I approached her sleeping form, careful not to step on her glasses which were lying a few inches from her muzzle. The impact of hitting the ground had caused a small, hairline crack to appear in one of the lenses. I could only imagine how upset she was going to be upon finding it. Rarity bought them in Canterlot at the same price everything there was: very high.

Wind blew across my fur from an unseen source and I shifted my gaze around the room, trying to locate it. I spied an open window a few feet above me, the curtains billowing out each time the wind blew past them. It had been a lovely spring day and Rarity preferred to work with the windows open. She said it was refreshing and helped to keep her focused, but she hadn't remembered to close it when night fell and a chilly breeze was wafting in. A faint shiver swept through Rarity's body and not being able to close the window, the only thing I could do was climb onto her soft, lavender-scented stomach, and curl into a ball to try and keep her warm. I watched her carefully for a moment to make sure my movement hadn't disturbed her slumber, but she seemed to be deep in a dream and mumbled something about gold embroidery. Even asleep she was still fussing over details, but at least she was getting some much-needed rest. I knew Rarity well enough to know that come morning, she'll be right back at it and fretting about the time she'd lost by falling asleep.

The thought brought a smile to my lips and a twinge of affection warmed my heart as I gazed down at the slumbering unicorn. Even though I was content, I didn't dare purr out of fear that it would wake her up, Rarity tends to be a light sleeper. Despite how much she aggravates me, however many times she steps on my tail or pokes with a sewing needle whilst using me as a makeshift ponyquin, I had to remember what it was I saw in her all those years ago. I had to remember the lengths we'd both gone through to ensure we would be in each other's company again. Rarity was many things: witty, creative, generous, loving...an over-dramatic fussbudget. But above all, she was tenacious. She never gave up, and there was a time in my life when I didn't either. We were two stones, or if Rarity had her preference, diamonds, cut from the same block in countless ways. She would never know what secrets I harbored from my past, and even if there was some way for me to tell her, I would probably still choose to keep it to myself. Some things are best left unknown.

But that doesn't mean I can't tell you, now does it? After all, just like how I see all those ponies with their snouts buried in Cosmare magazine, it's obvious that reading about flawless, goddess-like creatures brings enjoyment, and who am I to deny you?

Unlike Rarity who was born in Ponyville but believed herself to be a Canterlot pony at heart, I was actually born in Canterlot and as much as I've grown to tolerate Ponyville, I feel my heart still remains there. Little does Rarity know, her trips to Canterlot are actually just as much of a thrill for her as they are for me, even if most of my memories of growing up there are a tad foggy. Speaking of memories, I have to say that my very first ones weren't my fondest. As mortified as I am to admit, I was the smallest of my six siblings, the runt if you will, even if I find that term horrendously degrading. My brothers and sisters always received more food than I did, as it was impossible for me the climb over them to either get to my mother or the silver dishes of pate.

My mother and father belonged to an elite group of cats that watched over Canterlot Castle and kept the mice population down, especially around the the kitchen. Oh Celestia, if Rarity knew that I was a descendant of Canterlot royalty...well, let's just say there wouldn't be enough fainting couches in all of Equestria. Speaking of which, I'm glad she's upgraded to something inanimate. Unlike now, her episodes of histrionics when she was younger resulted in her thinking I would catch her. Luckily, one hard fall was all she needed to realize that I had neither the strength nor the desire to do such a thing. 

Anyway, my father was a striking solid black while my mother had the long, luxurious white fur of a shaded silver Persian. Most of my siblings inherited my father's black coat while the rest were mottled with both black and white. I was the only one to be graced with the stunning white coat of my mother.

While my parents nurtured me, the other cats around the castle became my mentors. They taught me what it meant to truly call myself a feline and how to behave as such. My parents cared for me well and to this day I'm grateful for them, but eventually I grew older and with age came independence. By that point, my siblings and I were beginning to roam around the palace and cause mischief. Scratches would inexplicably appear on the underside of curtains and entire slabs of fish would vanish from the kitchen, never to be seen again. Our shenanigans eventually grew tiresome by the palace staff and quite honestly, I can't say I blame them. Even our own parents were getting fed up with us.

Gradually, my siblings started to disappear one by one, and after asking around a little, I found out they were being taken to animal shelters to be adopted. There were already plenty of cats to guard the castle and my mother's pregnancy was unexpected to begin with, so they had no further use for us now that we were old enough to be on our own.

Most Canterlot ponies don't relish the idea of pets, so there weren't many shelters left in the city that had openings for new animals. Because of that, it was decided that the remainder of my siblings, by now it was just two of my brothers and I, were to be taken to the next town over, which happened to be Ponyville. 

My first experience on a sky-chariot is one I'll never forget. The majority was spent cowering in the corner of a wicker basket with my eyes closed along with the rest of my kin and trying in vain to keep the wind from mussing my gorgeous fur. After an eternity of being unable to sense the ground beneath me, I felt the chariot begin the slow as the Pegasi prepared for landing. When I finally felt the loving embrace of solid earth, I gathered enough courage to open my eyes and peeked out over the rim of the basket. One of the guards clamped his teeth around the handle and began walking towards a quaint building with the words "PONYVILLE PET SHOP" above it. An elderly earth pony stallion with a mustard colored mane, faded blue coat, and the cutie mark of a chew toy greeted them heartily at the door.

"Morning fellas," he bellowed in a gruff baritone, "put the new arrivals in those pens up there." He gestured toward the front of the shop. I gaped at him, appalled. Pens!? Did he have any idea who he was talking to!? We were cats of noble stature and instead we were being treated like swine! The term "display" would have been much more appropriate, especially since my enclosure was up against a glass window and it seemed hardly a coincidence. Obviously he thought I needed to be in a place where ponies could adore me, and that thought alone was almost enough to make up for his distasteful word choice. 

My new home was modest, but it had everything to suit my needs. A food and water dish, litter box, a few cat toys, a bed that looked relatively comfortable, and a small cat tree that I dubbed my throne away from throne. Three of the walls were a clear plastic and the fourth was the glass window overlooking the street. There was another sheet of hole-pocked plastic above me so that I couldn't jump out, but from the looks of things, I wouldn't have any desire to. It was certainly no royal castle, but it could've been worse I suppose. My brothers were across from me in a display similar to mine, except that theirs bordered the left window instead of the right.

My days began to fall into a monotonous routine and by my third week there, one of my brothers was adopted by a lively young colt in search of a companion. Soon, my other brother was adopted by a newlywed couple looking to strengthen their relationship by having something they could both care for, but didn't carry the monumental responsibility of a foal.

In the egotism of my youth, I didn't think anyone or anything was worthy enough of my company, and I was content with being alone. Nevertheless, I'd hoped that my brothers were happy and that the rest of my siblings back home had found ponies to bond with. The cats back in Canterlot told me that some cats experience a special connection with a pony that grows into an unbreakable bond, while others could just pad through life with nothing but an air of superiority, one that all cats possessed, to be the only companionship they desired. I was only four months old at the time and was quite pleased with the latter, but destiny has a way of sneaking up on you, and there is never a way to truly predict what sort of direction your life will take. This was a lesson I would come to learn many times.

I was close to seven months old and slowly beginning to detest Ponyville. For one thing, it was such a rugged, homely town, so unlike the sophistication and grandeur of Canterlot. Worse yet, despite being right up against a window for all the world to see, nopony seemed to even acknowledge my existence. Back home I had been the talk of the town, but here they gave me nothing more than a passing glance like I was some tacky piece of furniture on display, hardly worth their time and bits. I should be adored by thousands, but instead ponies obliviously walked past me, too caught up in themselves to notice what a glamorous spectacle I was. Plus, absolutely nothing exciting ever happened. It wasn't like nowadays where Ponyville faces eminent doom on a regular basis and Rarity has to go run off with her friends and save the day.

It was boring, that is, until the shop owner decided to expand a closet at the back of the store into more space for animals. I never knew his name, but he had a tendency to split his hooves and always walked around with iron horseshoes that made a dreadful racket, so I called him Ironhooves. Creative, I know, but cats aren't exactly famous for their originality. Anyway, the construction crew had been hammering and drilling and making such a cacophony that I could barely hear myself think. At first, all the new faces and commotion was exciting, but it quickly grew into a nuisance when the clamor started up and never ceased.

Becoming bored and quite irritated by the ruckus in the back room, I scampered up onto my makeshift throne by the window and stared out at the world beyond. It was a Saturday and Ponyville was absolutely buzzing with activity; it seemed everypony had their own agenda that they were determined to stick to. Farmers earned their daily bits from ponies hungry for quality produce, merchants bartered goods with traders looking for a cheap find, and foals merrily skipped and played hopscotch on the sidewalk. Some ponies were just leisurely making their way along the cobblestone path, perhaps towards their destination or simply to enjoy the fall weather. It must be wonderful to be able to walk outside and enjoy the fresh air whenever the mood strikes you, I thought with a wistful sigh.

It was easy enough to imagine that the piece of glass wasn't there, but it was, and no amount of meowing or glaring at the wretched thing would make it go away. It was astonishing really, how such a small and unassuming thing could make such a meaningful difference, and I would soon learn that it wasn't just the contemptible piece of glass that this statement applied to. So lost was I in my emotions of longing and loathing, that I hadn't noticed two figures approaching the shop from across the street. I blinked and my eyes focused on a mustachioed stallion trudging after a unicorn filly who was eagerly trotting over to the window, grinning from ear to ear. Instantly, I perked up. At last, some admirers! It was about time this town learned to appreciate true beauty!

I checked myself to see if I was decent enough to be in the public eye. I licked a few stray pieces of fur back into place and put on an air of sophistication, superiority, and my personal favorite -- indifference. Trying to remember what the Canterlot cats had taught me, I tilted my chin up and looked down on them like the commoners they were. The unicorn squealed in delight and placed her hooves against the glass, gazing at me with such adoration. It made me feel satisfied I was finally getting the attention I deserved.

"Ooh! Look father, a kitten! Isn't she adorable?"

Adorable? Is that all?

"She's absolutely stunning!"

That's more like it.

"She has a white coat just like mine! And the way it catches the sunlight is simply dazzling!"

Perhaps this filly was no peasant after all. She obviously knows a fine specimen when she sees one, which was more than I could say for everypony else. In fact, she herself was a thing of beauty, and I found myself marveling at how somepony so young could give off such an air of poise and elegance. Her face was framed by a lustrous indigo mane coiffed to perfection, even if her hair wasn't long enough to be styled into curls yet, and a cutie mark of three blue diamonds adorned her flank. Her clear, posh voice was still that of a young filly, high and a little squeaky, but it still carried with it all the nuisances of Rarity's voice that I've come to know, like the way her voice sounds gravely when says something with emphasis. She had impressive diction for a foal, it reminded me of the way the Canterlot nobility enunciated their words. It certainly sounded out of place in this backwater town. She had flawless features, the most prominent being eyes the color of sapphire, so bright and full of life. This was before she started wearing eyeshadow and false eyelashes, and yes, I do know they're fake, I watch her put them on every morning. I can't say I ever approved of it, I still remember her eyes without any, what Rarity calls "enhancements", and they never needed anything more. They were plenty stunning just on their own, and I truly wish Rarity could see that.

Going against my better judgment, not to mention everything I had ever learned about being a proper cat, I let my composure slip and soon it was I who was admiring her. For a single moment in time, we were both lost in awe at one another and I can still remember looking into those radiant pools of blue and seeing myself. Well, I saw my reflection, yes, which was a treat indeed, but what I meant was, I saw in her the essence of myself had I been born a pony. We were both creatures of high status, I was a Cantelot elite and she was beyond worthy of the title, and yet, here we both were, so far from where we truly belonged. It was a feeling of mutual understanding unlike anything I had ever experienced. The filly apparently felt the same way, for she was practically bursting at the seams with elation.

"I've never seen a cat like her! Please father, may I take her home! If I go another moment without her I'll just die!" The filly placed her foreleg across her forehead as if she were about to faint. I remember thinking she was perhaps a tad melodramatic for such a little one, and to this day I still think that, even now that Rarity is a grown mare who should know better than to act as immature as she sometimes does.

The older stallion looked shocked and a bit disgusted. "Rarity! You can't possibly want an...animal running around the house!" He said "animal" like the word hurt his tongue. "Imagine it...making messes, leaving fur everywhere, scratching the furniture to shreds! I bet it would just have a heyday with your fabric. Besides, we can't afford it."

"But..." Rarity's ears folded back and her voice wavered, but didn't allow her determination to falter. "But she doesn't belong here!"

You can say that again, sweetheart.

"A kitten like this deserves to be pampered and fussed over!"

The stallion with the rather unflattering mustache stomped his hoof on the ground, sending up a small cloud of dust.

"That's enough, Rarity! I've told you this more times than I can count: you are not getting a cat or any pet and there will be no more discussion about it. Now, come along." Rarity's erect posture drooped and she hung her head in defeat. It was as if someone had zapped every positive emotion right out of her, and after sparing one last glance at me, her eyes glistening with the oncoming tears, she trudged after her father dejectedly.

It all happened so quickly, it took me a minute to process what was going on. When my mind finally caught up, I inwardly screamed, "No! Come back! You can't leave me here!" Desperately, I placed my paws against the window, willing her to come back with everything I had. That filly may be my one chance at escape and I would never see her again! Pawing got me nowhere with the blasted glass and all meowing got me was an annoyed shout to "cut that racket" from Ironhooves. Knowing full well that there was nothing I could do, I curled into a ball on top of my cat tree and wallowed in my own self-pity. Barley a minute had passed when I sensed a shadow fall over me and I lifted my head, angry that someone had dared to interrupt my wallowing. To my disbelief and absolute delight, there was Rarity in all her splendor, staring at me with such an intense look in her eyes I backed up a few inches, forgetting I was on a raised platform and nearly falling off. To this day, there have been very few times when I've ever heard Rarity speak with as much sincerity as she did then.

"Don't worry, I'll come back for you. Someday, when I'm Equestria's most famous designer, I'll earn enough bits to buy you and build you a palace!" Rarity made a grand gesture and her eyes took on a glossy sheen as though she were a million miles away, probably imagining standing in front of it. She snapped herself back to reality with a shake of her head and met my gaze once again. "Just wait for me." Rarity paused, opening and closing her mouth as if there was something else she wanted to say but the right words eluded her. Whatever it was I'll never know because I heard the muffled yell of the stallion calling for her off in the distance, and she gave me a final nod of affirmation before she took off running in her father's direction. It would be a long while before I saw her again.

At the time, I took Rarity's delusions of grandeur as merely the musings of a filly who would never grow into such big dreams, but there wasn't a hint of doubt her voice when she'd said all that. Rarity genuinely believed that what she told me would come true, and I hoped with all of my heart that it would. A newfound feeling of hope ignited in my chest and spread throughout my body until I could almost see the warmth radiating from myself. A purr sprang to life in my throat and increased in volume to the point where Ironhooves gave me a quizzical look as he walked past, wondering why I was suddenly so content. Rarity was not only my ticket out of this hovel, but she was also the only other thing in Equestria that truly understood me, and I just couldn't shake the feeling that we were one in the same. I was convinced that she was the special connection the Canterlot cats had spoken of, and if she wanted me to wait, I would wait. Waiting was the only thing I had been doing since I was taken from Canterlot, but this time it was with a purpose! Thrilled beyond anything I had ever felt in my short life, I curled up in the last of the setting sun's rays and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the day when Rarity and I would live in a palace together like the royalty we knew ourselves to be.

Before I knew it, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and all the while I never forgot about the little white unicorn. She remained my one constant as myself and the world around me gradually began to change. Being confined in such a small area, my field of vision only went so far, and I had been staring at the same square of scenery for so long I could probably paint every detail with my eyes closed. Luckily, nothing ever stayed the same and each day it seemed there would be a tiny, nearly imperceptible difference that, in time, would amount to something noticeable. The trees grew taller, new ponies joined the familiar faces of the old, and the cobblestone road formed new cracks and ridges from the continuous wear and tear. The shop had changed too. My fellow inmates had occasionally been bought out and replaced. All except me, of course. I assumed it was because nopony thought they were worthy enough to be in my company for too long, for there was no other reason I could think of as to why I wasn't snatched right up. That was perfectly alright with me, in fact, I was hoping that was the case because I needed to be here when Rarity came back.

This point in my life is one I look back on with envy, as it was the peak of my beauty. I had abandoned my stout kitten body for a sleek, majestic figure. Most of the Canterlot cats complained that the older they got, the more their looks lost their luster, but it seemed that my aging only brought me closer to perfection -- if I wasn't already there before. It brought me such pride to see how fetching I had become, if only Rarity could've seen me then!

Nevertheless, it seemed that my allure remained lost on the townsfolk. If I was still in Canterlot with actual civilized ponies it would've been a different story, and although the cities weren't far apart, they might as well have been worlds away. There was one pony however, that kept my faith in Ponyville relatively restored. She reminded so much of home, it brought me comfort in knowing that there was a pony worthy of Canterlot status among the peasants.

Rarity was the only thing that kept me from going mad in this noisy, smelly, dingy pet store, and not a day went by that I didn't think about her. However, with each passing day, my hope that Rarity would come and rescue the princess from her tower dwindled more and more. I began having thoughts like: What if she never came back? What if she'd found another cat more charming than me? Oh...right, that would never happen. But what if something bad had happened to her? Someone would eventually adopt me, yes, but the thought that our first magical encounter would be our last was too much to bear and I absolutely refused to believe it.

It wasn't easy keeping my spirits up, however. At one point I became convinced that she had forgotten about me and that it was pointless to keep holding on to the ridiculous notion that she would come back. Not to mention it was completely out of character for my species. Cats are stoic, aloof, and most of all, completely independent creatures. If the Canterlot cats had been there, they would have either laughed at me or been completely abashed by my behavior. Honestly, I was a bit taken aback by myself as well, obsessing over a pony this way when my nature was to ignore everything but my own kind -- sometimes even that was a stretch. My feelings may have been unconventional, but I was in no way denying or ashamed at how attached I had become to Rarity.

On the days when I was at my lowest, when the boredom, loneliness, or doubt threatened to overtake me, Rarity's words would echo in my mind on repeat. Just wait for me. As long as I had a flicker of hope burning inside me to ward of the darkness of those emotions, that's exactly what I would do.

The days continued to come and go and things remained in a routine that seemed to be stuck in a loop. It was monotonous no doubt, but Ironhooves cared for me well, as cantankerous as he was, and I spent my days lounging in the sun and indulging in long grooming sessions. What more could cat ask for? I still disliked the inadequate sanitation of the shop, but I tolerated it as best I could. I was content with watching the world go by and looking forward to the day when that familiar face would emerge from the crowd once again.

There was no accurate way to keep time, seeing as old Ironhooves apparently didn't believe in clocks or a calendar, and I had to resort to keeping track of the days in my head. I was approaching day 2,179 -- just shy of six years, when the imported Persian rug was yanked out from under me and my ordinary life came to a screeching halt. When I least expected it, my destiny was rolled out in front of me like the finest silk on a polished floor. Or the muddy ground of a back-country road.

As most extraordinary days do, this one started out as ordinary. A new shipment of parakeets had arrived early in the morning, waking me from my precious beauty sleep. They squawked and squawked all day; it took every ounce of restraint I had not to lunge at them and take a bite out of their necks. I'd never tasted a bird before, a lot of ponies kept poultry as pets and they didn't take too kindly to someone looking to them for a quick bite. The gourmet food purée I was given in Canterlot mainly consisted of fish, but I was certainly open to new things, especially if they kept up that awful hoopla. Mid-afternoon rolled around and they were still at it. I tried to concentrate on something else and I put all of my attention into grooming myself, hoping it was would ease my frazzled nerves a little.

Ironhooves had been continuously leaving and coming back with boxes of various shapes and sizes and began piling them up near the back door. I regarded him with nonchalance as I continued licking my paws and using them to wash my face, eventually feeling satisfied with my efforts and curling up for a nap. I was in for one of the most unpleasant wake-up calls of my life when I was jarred out of my slumber by the feeling of teeth clamping around the scruff of my neck. It wasn't painful but it startled me so badly that I screeched in protest, trying to wriggle my way free. When I realized I was being taken out of my enclosure, a sudden feeling of dread made my blood freeze and I was wide awake in an instant. I knew what this meant.

Although I thought I did a perfectly fine job of keeping myself clean, Ironhooves insisted I be given a bath every few months. It wasn't so much the water that terrified me -- although the sensation of my fur getting wet was undesirable -- as it was the fact that Ironhooves was very far-sided and had no idea where he was pointing the stream of water. It would get in my ears, my eyes, my mouth...basically anywhere I didn't want it to go. The same went for the soap. Shuddering in terror, I braced myself for another miserable ten minutes, but to my surprise and utter relief, he walked right past the wash basin.

I sighed as some of the fear left my body, but I wasn't sure I was out of the woods yet, so I stayed wary as he approached the stack of boxes at the backdoor, the parakeets squawking at me all the while. What happened next was so sudden that it's nothing more than a blur in my memory. He picked up a box with a few holes poked in at the top, released his grip from my neck, dropped me inside, folded the flaps, and secured them with tape. I was plunged into darkness and the overpowering smell of cardboard invaded my nostrils.

Confused and growing steadily more afraid, I meowed at him to let me out, throwing in a few choice words that would have caused Rarity to be in need of her fainting couch. It wasn't until I felt the sensation of being picked up and hearing Ironhooves' raspy voice say to somepony, "Put the rest of the boxes in the carriage, I've got one more to put in the front," that the realization of what was happening hit me at full force.

About a month prior, Ironhooves began conducting long meetings with a representative from Manehatten about expanding his business and opening a new shop in the big city, because apparently the one in Ponyville wasn't bringing in enough revenue. Ironhooves said he would continue to run this shop since Ponyville was his home, but he would still be partners with whoever ran the Manehatten branch. He would need to move a few pets from his old location to the new one, since the big city shop had just opened and would take a while to completely fill up.

I remembered feeling a spike of panic at the possibility that I could be moved, but I dismissed the feeling as quickly as it came. I knew that deep down Ironhooves had a soft spot for me, not to mention the fact that I had been here so long I had practically become a very tasteful fixture in the otherwise drab store. But my affection for Rarity had made me naive, and I had forgotten that ponies are flawed and fickle creatures, so unlike my kind, and to never completely trust them, no matter how well they may treat you. Ironhooves was no better than the rest, and as I felt myself being thrown unceremoniously into the back of the carriage, I knew that for a fact. In retrospect, if I hadn't been so foalish I could've anticipated it and made my escape when he took me out of my display. I had no idea what I would do after that but at least I wouldn't be a million miles away where Rarity would never find me.

I had no time to dwell on such things though, the carriage was moving at top speed and every moment I spent berating myself was another mile that was put between me and Ponyville. It was my own blindness that got me into this and by Celestia I was going to get out. Despite the intense darkness, my night vision switched on and I was able to see my surroundings perfectly, although there really wasn't anything promising to look at. Six squares of cardboard surrounded me on all sides with a few cylinders of light streaming down from the small holes on top. The box was much taller than I was, and I knew the top was sealed with tape, so there was no way I could jump out.

A second option popped into my head, but the amount of time it would take was a huge setback. I could claw my way out, but I had no idea if I was, well, boxed in by the rest of the cargo, and clawing a hole only to find it blocked would be a waste of precious time. Then I remembered that Ironhooves had been filling up this carriage all day and I had been the last to be loaded up, so there had to be an open spot somewhere, especially if he put me in the very front. There was a chance I could be close to the edge. It was taking a risk, but it was better than doing nothing.

The wall on the right was the first one I picked and after backing up as far as my tight confinement would allow, I ran full speed and threw myself at the cardboard. It didn't budge. The same with the next wall only to get the same result. I moved on to the third wall and besides upsetting a cockatiel that was apparently my neighbor, nothing happened. Trying again with no luck, I moved on to the last wall, and by then dread was making me apprehensive. I gulped, trying to slow my racing heart by picturing Rarity's beaming face in my mind. My paws moved on their own accord as they raced toward the cardboard and plowed into it. The box moved. It was so slight I wouldn't have even noticed if I wasn't paying attention, it was maybe a centimeter or so, but it was all the confirmation I needed.

There was no time for a victory celebration, however, and I began to claw furiously at the cardboard. The cruel hands of the unstoppable clock ticked on, but still I continued, even when my paws began to throb -- there was wasn't a snowball's chance in Tartarus I was giving up now.

You would think all my years in the pet store would've given me an exceptional sense of time, but I couldn't tell how much time had really gone by. Celestia knows how far from Ponyville I was by that point, and my frustration at how unbelievably tedious this was give me a sudden burst of energy, causing me to claw even faster. To my great relief, light began to pour in through the small hole I'd made and when I peeked out I could see nothing but the road whizzing by. This sight only spurred me onward and within another five minutes, I had created a hole big enough to jump through. Wasting no more time, I backed up as far as I could and with every ounce of strength I had, I charged and leaped through the hole. The minute I did so, I instantly regretted it. I had underestimated how close to the edge and how high above the road I actually was. For a split second, I was airborne before I smacked into the ground, the impact sending me tumbling head over tail on the rocky gravel road. The world looked like it was painted in sloppy watercolor, every shade and hue blending into one another, and the only thing stopping me from losing my lunch was my head colliding with a stone and knocking me unconscious. 

I must have only been out for a few seconds, because when I came to the carriage was still in sight and making its way along the road, eventually becoming nothing more than a speck on the hillside. The box lay a few feet from me, a new dent in the side from hitting the ground. There were little white spots in my vision and my head throbbed agonizingly. For a few minutes, all I could do was lay there in a daze. When the world had righted itself again, I carefully stood up and checked myself over for any visible injuries. From the way my body was screaming in pain, I expected to see a jagged bone protruding from my flesh or an open wound oozing blood from my head. Astonishingly, I found no injuries, but to my horror, what my eyes fell upon was something so much worse.

Ponyville had received a rainstorm--more like a torrential downpour--the previous night and the roads had turned into rivers of mud. I shudder to even think about it to this day! My...my pristine white fur was caked with mud and filth all over. In fact, Celestia forbid you would've seen me, there would be no way of knowing what color I had originally been. There wasn't an inch of me left that wasn't tainted by that hideous shade of brown and a few twigs and pieces of gravel were also embedded in my fur. There wasn't any reaction I could give except to stare in utter shock and horror at the state of my once beautiful pelt.

If I hadn't been in the middle of nowhere with my stomach starting to grumble and a pony to reunite with, I probably would've stayed there for several more hours out of fear that any movement would ground the dirt deeper into my coat. I didn't have that luxury this time though, and the gravity of my situation was turning my disgust into fear. Not only did I have no idea where I was, but I looked to be in the most desolate location in Equestria. I'd heard that the outskirts of Ponyville where barren and, except for the ponies living on a few rock farms, lifeless, but I didn't expect anything like this. It looked like the desert where Pegasi tested lightning storms. Miles and miles of dirt, mud, and rocks stretched out before me as far as the eye could see, not a single house, pony, or anything anywhere in sight.

The sheer openness of my surroundings suddenly overwhelmed me and I quickly shut my eyes to keep from seeing it. The outside world was so astronomically big, and it was just too much to take in all at once. I had spent all my life in a tiny enclosure with nothing to look at but rows of cages on the inside, and a small bit of Ponyville scenery on the outside. This sheer openness was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I had imagined it to feel exhilarating, that I would be jumping for joy, but instead all I could do was quiver and feel so incredibly small. I had, once again, not thought this through very rationally. What if a timber wolf came and attacked me? There's no way I could fight it off! How would I find food? I'd never had to wait ten minutes after my food bowl was empty for it to be refilled! What about water? Shelter? No! No.... I shook my head vigorously, trying to derail my train of thought before it could fall over a cliff into oblivion. Instead I tried to fill my mind with thoughts of Rarity, and as always, she gave me the courage I so desperately needed. Everything would be fine. I would figure things out as I went along. After all, I was free now, gone were the days of sitting idly by and waiting for her to come to me. It was time for me to go to her. My fate was in my paws now, and I could do what I wanted with it.

I took a few seconds to collect myself, then I put one paw in front of the other and began to follow the road. The carriage had been moving in a straight line since our departure and if it had led me out of Ponyville, I knew it would lead back in. From there, I would simply find some neighborhood cats and ask them if they'd seen anypony resembling Rarity. Ponyville was a small town and one of them would have to know something.

It was approaching late evening and I felt I'd made good progress traversing the road, even though my paws were smarting a bit from the impact of hitting the ground. Thankfully, the rain had provided a few muddy puddles of water, and even though I gagged and spluttered at the putrid taste, I eventually got enough down to quench my thirst and fill my stomach temporarily. As Celestia lowered the sun, my eyes began to droop and I started to feel drowsy. I didn't want to stop when there was still a substantial amount of twilight left, but I reasoned that if I got some much needed rest I could start early again the next morning.

Not wanting to wander too far from the road but still wanting to avoid sleeping out in the open, I hid behind a large boulder and curled up. At first, the awful feeling of dried mud tugging at my fur kept me awake, but my lack of catnaps and exhaustion from having to exert more energy than ever in my life was enough to carry me off to sleep within an hour or so.

The instant the sun peeked over the horizon I was up and ready to resume the journey. My body ached from the previous day's escapades as much as I tried to ignore it, it slowed my progress considerably. The day was spent walking and keeping an eye out for sources of food. Perhaps I would stumble across a patch of grass or a meadow where there would be field mice. Still, even if I found them it didn't mean I could ever catch them. I'd known many mousers back in Canterlot, but their work was strictly for indoor mouse control and I'd never asked them what went into catching the little creatures. My predatory instincts where likely to take over once I found one, but I hadn't smelled mice or any animal at all since I'd been on the road. It was like someone had put up a force field and no living thing but myself could get inside. It was unsettling to say the least.

As the day progressed, my hunger grew more intense and by the time evening fell, I had decided not to stop and rest. In fact, I started to pick up my pace from a walk to a slow jog. My concern towards the lack of food and not knowing how far I was from civilization was beginning to frighten me. All through the night I walked and into the next day and all through that night as well. I cursed my diminutive body, my short legs only brought me half the distance a pony could've walked, and it was painstaking to say the least. By the fourth day without food I was weak, drained, and desperate. The faster I went the worse it felt. The water kept me from getting dehydrated, but my head and muscles ached, my paws seemed to have turned into lead, and my stomach felt like a knife was slowly twisting deeper inside me. It didn't help that winter wasn't far away and while my fur kept most of the cold away, the lack of food in my body made it harder for me to stay warm. Ponyville was getting close though, I could feel it with every agonizing step I took. I'd come so far and I only had to make it a little farther. I kept repeating that to myself over and over, and even when it felt like I couldn't move another step, I forced myself to keep going.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when the combination of barely any sleep, no food, and exhaustion caused my legs to give out and I suddenly flopped to the ground. I tried with all of my might to get up, but it was like my legs had a mind of their own and refused to obey my commands turned desperate pleas. They remained stationary no matter how much I tried to thrash and flail. This couldn't happen now, not when I was so close to Rarity! I wasn't going to let six years of life slip away so easily. I couldn't fail Rarity, not when I was so close I could taste it. Not when I'd spent so long waiting for the moment when we would be together again. It wasn't fair! I just needed to keep walking! But I couldn't. I just couldn't. My body had reached it's limit, it was a separate mechanism from my heart, which begged it to keep going. If my vocal chords had the ability, I would have wailed and cried for everything I was worth, but instead, I could only manage a long, low howl that spoke of all the sorrow and grief that I couldn't give tears or voice to.

Blackness began to seep into the corners of my vision, causing me to panic even more than I already was, and I tried in vain to fight it off. It was no use, and as I finally accepted defeat and allowed the darkness to engulf me, I prayed to Celestia that the next time I saw Rarity wouldn't be in cat heaven, if there really was such a thing.

My slumber was anything but peaceful and I fell in and out of consciousness. During the moments I spent in a half-awake state, icy tendrils of doubt were trying to pull me back into hopelessness. Questions began wriggling through my mind like maggots and the harder I tried to shake them off, the more would come crawling to the surface. What had I gotten myself into? How could I have allowed myself to be so foalish? Let's say I did survive this and made it to Ponyville, what if Rarity isn't even there anymore? She did say she wanted to be a designer, so what if she made it big and left Ponyville for bigger and better things? I would be a stray! A vagabond! A low-life! Forced to live in the sewers and eat out of garbage cans with no one to pamper and dote on me! How could I let someone of my status live that kind of life! Why did I ever think risking my life was really worth it for one pony? I'm a cat for Celestia's sake! What if I spent six years waiting for someone who had... long forgotten about me?

I was teetering on the precipice of unconsciousness yet again, when through the darkness I began to hear a noise so faint, that at first it was lost among the feelings of hopelessness bombarding me. Soon it had become loud enough that the haze of remorse hanging over me begun to dissipate. I recognized it instantly. It was the sound of Rarity's voice echoing somewhere in the darkness. Her tone was soft and encouraging, and gradually it became clear enough that I could make out what she was saying. She was telling me to wake up, to not give up on her. That she still loved me and that she was waiting for me. At this point it sounded like she was right in front of me and I reached out my paw to try and find her in the darkness. I called out to her, she would hear it as nothing more than a meow, but I thought she could follow it to me. I still saw only blackness, but I could hear her so clearly it was like she was whispering in my ear.

Wait a minute...

My eyes instantly snapped open. It wasn't just in my head, I could hear Rarity's voice! Try as I might, I couldn't lift my head up but I could still take in my surroundings. I was laying next to the road on a pile of dirt in the same barren wasteland I had been in before. Reality came crashing down on me like a powerful wave and I blinked my eyes in confusion. My ears twitched, straining to pick up even the smallest noise, but they were only met with silence. Was I dreaming? Was this cat heaven? Then, off in the distance, a voice resounded over the landscape, a voice I never thought I'd hear again. A voice that had filled my dreams and fueled my flame of hope for the past six years. A voice that to this day, I know I'll never grow tired of hearing, for each time I hear it, it reminds me of this moment. A voice so heavenly and ethereal, that I believed for a fleeting moment that it really was an angel coming to take me to heaven. She was still young, but her voice was no longer that of a filly, it was that of an adolescent on the threshold of adulthood. Still, even after all this time there was no mistaking it. Somewhere, Rarity was singing.

For a moment, every emotion I'd ever felt battled for dominance inside me until only two remained. It was the unforgettable feeling of pure, unadulterated euphoria and hope. I mustered up every last bit of strength I had and meowed as loud as I could, but it came out as a pathetic whimper, and I knew in my heart that there was no way she could hear me. I tried again and again, but it was fruitless. To make things worse, even though I couldn't see myself, I knew I was so covered in...nature that I blended in with the landscape better than a chameleon. The despair that had been lurking just beneath the surface waiting to rip me apart in its clutches prepared to permanently extinguish my flame of hope, just when it had shone brighter than ever. I had done it, she had done it, we were within proximity of each other, but she wouldn't see me, she would continue to be just beyond my reach like she'd been for so many years. There's an old Japaneighs proverb that goes something like: the worst form of torture you can ever wrought upon a pony, is to allow them through the gates of heaven, before sending them into the depths of Tartarus, because seeing your dreams laid out right before you, with the promise of everlasting happiness, only to have it ripped away, was more soul-crushing than knowing only suffering. I can't tell you how true those words seemed at that moment. Rarity was my dream, she was just on the other side of the hill, but I just couldn't get to her. She wouldn't see me. Nopony could have seen me.

But Rarity wasn't nopony. I didn't know it at the time, but she had an exquisite eye for detail, for picking out the slightest imperfection. I've seen her drop a tiny thread thinner than a hair on a floor the exact same color, and find it within seconds. The minute she emerged over the hillside, she instantly saw me as if there were a flashing neon sign above me, and galloped as fast as she could in my direction. Before I knew it, she was standing just inches from me. When we had first met she was almost as small as I was, and compared to other ponies Rarity is still rather petite, but while I stayed the same size, she'd grown considerably and she towered over me. She was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen in my entire life, let alone the past six years. Anypony at this point would have been a blessing, but the fact that it was the pony I'd longed 2,183 days for was indescribable. It was unfathomable to me how the stars had aligned for us to be at the same place at the same time, just when I needed her, and the only plausible explanation I could come up with was that I was, in fact, in cat heaven. It would make sense that it was a barren landscape with nopony but me and Rarity; she was the only thing that meant enough to me in my uneventful life.

But cat heaven or not, here she was, and just as I did all the years ago when I met her, I felt like I was home again. The reunion was one-sided, however, and I could tell Rarity didn't recognize me. It didn't come as a shock to me because, to be quite honest, neither did I, not with all the mud and grim on me. All recognition aside, she swept me up in her hooves and held me tight against her chest, not caring in the least about all the dirt that rubbed off on her alabaster coat. I didn't think much of it at the time, everypony in Ponyville seemed to wander around with a coating of filth on them, and I hadn't noticed at the time, but she was immaculately clean. Some of us do have standards. I know now that Rarity has an extreme aversion to filth, and thinking back, that action alone spoke volumes as to how much she really cared for me. Remembering how unsightly I looked, embarrassment temporarily overpowered all other emotions. I'd hoped that when Rarity and I did meet again I wouldn't be seen like this. 

Rarity's voice mirrored the concern in her brilliant blue eyes. "Sweet Celestia, you poor little thing! What are you doing out here all alone in such a dreadful state!? This is no place for a cat to be wandering around!" She touched a hoof to my neck and separated the fur, or fur that had been reduced to clumps of mud. "You don't seem to have a collar, at least, as far as I can tell. Are you lost?" I nodded, knowing that it was forbidden to let on to ponies that you could understand them, but abiding by cat laws was the least of my concern. Luckily, Rarity didn't seem to think anything of it and she only held me closer. "Well, not to worry, you're safe now." There was no longer the glass barrier to keep us apart, there never would be again, and I nuzzled against her. She smelled divine, like fields of peony and lavender, and I purred for the first time in years.

An icy chill cut through the air, causing us both to violently shiver. Despite Rarity having much shorter fur than me, she took off her scarf and wrapped it around me until every inch of my body was covered. This selfless gesture was a precursor to the many acts of generosity I would have the pleasure of witnessing throughout the years. "Let's get somewhere warm, shall we?"

A pair of saddlebags bulging with gemstones were draped across Rarity's back, and she hurriedly emptied one load onto the ground and placed me inside. I would later come to learn that Rarity sometimes ventured into the outskirts of Ponyville to find rare gemstones buried in pockets just under the surface to use on her garments. It was a great haul, the biggest one she would have in several months, well, it would have been, had she not just sacrificed half of it for me.

Once Rarity was certain I was secure, she instructed me to hang on and took off running at full speed towards Ponyville. Minutes flew by, much like we did, and soon I began to see houses off in the distance. I couldn't believe how close to Ponyville I'd actually come. Rarity dodged stones and leaped over branches, almost jostling me out of the bag a few times. I was amazed at how agile she was, but I reasoned that she had to maintain her svelte physique somehow. As we left the dead landscape behind and grew ever closer to Ponyville's center, ponies were now our main obstacle and Rarity weaved in out of the crowds calling out "excuse me" or "pardon me" as she did so. Trying not to lose her balance running on three legs, Rarity pointed a hoof towards an ornate building and trying to be heard over the wind in our ears, yelled, "That's my home, we're almost there!" The tiny building soon towered over us and Rarity flung open the door with her magic, sending a gust of warm air whooshing out. Sweetie Belle, only seven at the time, was casually coloring in the middle of the floor and looked up from her work to see her sister burst through the front door and gallop across the room to the staircase at the back.

"Hi, sis! Did you-"

"No time to talk! Emergency!" Rarity called back, already at the top of the stairs and turning down a hallway, leaving a confused Sweetie to stare at the cloud of dust where her sister had been only seconds before. When we reached Rarity's workroom, she carefully lifted me out of her saddlebag and tossed them on the bed, the impact causing the flaps to burst open and a few gems to spill out. She placed me on the table next to her sewing machine and was about to run back out of the room when Sweetie Belle appeared in doorway, causing Rarity to nearly plow into her. Backpedaling, Rarity shot a fearful glance over her shoulder and quickly stepped in front of me, obscuring her sister's view. I sent her a silent "thank you" for not letting another pony see me like this.

"What going on?" Sweetie Belle asked, looking around the room for a clue as to what had her sister in such a hurry. "Do you need any help?"

Panting heavily from the race across Ponyville, Rarity replied through gasps of air, "Yes...I need a towel, a washcloth, shampoo...and a bucket of warm water stat!"

Sweetie beamed, eager to assist. "You got it, sis!"

"Oh, and also a bowl of water and some of that cat food I have stored away in the cabinet, please."

"Sure thing!"

"Thank you!" Rarity called after her, but Sweetie Belle had already dashed out the door. With that taken care of, Rarity trotted over to where she had left me and sat down on her workbench. She levitated her glasses off one of the shelves and placed them on her muzzle, then began to look me over. Her sapphire eyes were filled with such tenderness and compassion, even a tinge of worry. It was how a mother looked at her sick child, and not even my parents had ever showed such concern toward my well-being.

"I don't know what's happened to you, darling, but I promise you're safe with me." She reached out a hoof to stroke my fur before remembering I was covered in mud and quickly pulled it back, giving me an apologetic look as I turned away, unable to look at her I was so mortified. She probably thought I was a slob, another Ponyville ruffian, or worse...a stray.

"Now, now, don't look so embarrassed," she said softly, patting the top of my head, the least muddy spot on me. "Sweetie Belle should be back any moment and then I can get you all cleaned up." Right on cue, Sweetie Belle walked in shoving a wooden wash basin along with her muzzle, everything Rarity had asked for was piled up inside. Rarity quickly threw a piece of fabric over me and while my vision was now obstructed, I could hear various things being set on the ground and on the table in front of me. My nose immediately picked up the intoxicating aroma of salmon paté, and it caused me to salivate so profusely that I feared a puddle might start to form on the table and leak onto the floor. Rarity thanked Sweetie Belle and told her she was finishing up a project and would be down to make dinner in an hour. Sweetie Belle said she would be downstairs if she needed anything else. As soon as the filly was gone, Rarity shut and locked the door before pulling the fabric off of me.

"Sorry about that, she can be so curious and I don't want to risk her telling mother and father if she sees you here. They aren't much for pets, you see. I know she's already suspicious since I asked for cat food." Rarity's words were lost on me as I stared at the food, the only thing I could focus on was the pain in my stomach that reminded me of how hungry I was. It took all of my willpower not to pounce on it and devour it like fresh-caught prey. Luckily, Rarity had become preoccupied with something else and while she had her back turned, I cast aside everything I'd learned about meal etiquette and wolfed down entire portion of salmon. There was also a bowl of water next to it and I lapped it up as well.

That wonderful slight pressure in my stomach signaling that I was full was the second best thing that had happened to me all day. I didn't think I'd ever feel full again, and the food did wonders for my body. Whatever strength I hadn't gained back from my rest was returned and I felt like running a marathon. A minute later, Rarity turned her attention back to me and gasped softly when her eyes fell upon the not only empty but licked clean plate and bowl.

"Oh my, you really were hungry! I'll have to bring you more later, but for now, let's get that mud off you." Rarity scooped me up in her hooves, she never levitated me back then, her magic was still weak and would cut out if she overused it. Her skills have greatly improved over the years and now she levitates me everywhere, usually against my will, but back then I think she was terrified she would drop me. She brought me over the where a red wash basin sat on the floor, surrounded by shampoos and various other grooming products.

Flashbacks instantly flooded my mind of all the miserable hours spent cowering in the corner of that metal wash basin, Ironhooves fumbling blindly around trying to find me and praying he wouldn't mistake me for the bar of soap and dunk me underwater. The memories caused me to quake in fear, and Rarity must have picked on this because she began to whisper reassurances in a soft, soothing tone as she lowered me into the water.

The heavenly feeling of the warm water and Rarity's comforting words were enough to remind me of whose presence I was, or more importantly, wasn't in. The water was the perfect temperature instead of the two degrees above freezing that Ironhooves' always was, and the soap on a rope he always used was a harsh contrast to the bubbly, effervescent shampoo. Above all, Rarity had perfect vision. She did wear glasses from time to time, but they were mainly just for extra magnification when she was working with fine detail. She could see where the soap and water were going with crystal clarity.

As Rarity gently cleaned the mud off my face with a wet washcloth, I couldn't help but stare up at her and take in her radiant beauty. Like me, age had only made her all the more breathtaking. Her glossy purple mane and tail had grown longer and were now styled into curls at the ends and she had grown into her features making them even more striking. A sweet fragrance wafted into my nose and I looked down to find myself covered in pink shampoo. Rarity hummed softly to herself as she worked, and the feeling of mud being washed away to reveal my beautiful fur was marvelous. Soon all the shampoo was rinsed off and Rarity lifted me out of the water and began toweling off my wet fur. I stole a glance at my pride and joy, overcome with delight when I saw it was not only returned to its original state, but the oils in the shampoo gave it an extra shine. I was almost shielding my eyes from such a brilliant white.

Rarity also took notice and exclaimed, "My stars, darling! Who knew under all that dirt you were such a sight to behold! Why, of all the precious jewels I found today you are by far the most stunning! I've only ever seen one cat with such lovely...white...fur..." Rarity stopped drying me and dropped the towel; it crumpled to the floor in a heap. My heart soared with unimaginable joy as I watched a spark of recognition ignite behind her eyes, which had taken on a faraway look as the memory of our fateful meeting was brought to the forefront of her mind. I could practically hear the gears turning in her head, and the longer she stared at me, the more I wanted to burst into tears of joy.

"...You're....you can't be....Opal? " Rarity shook her head, continuing to gape at me like her mind couldn't comprehend how I had come to be sitting before her. "You're the kitten I saw in the pet store when I was a filly....aren't you?" There were so many things I wanted to do in that moment. Had my anatomy permitted me to do so, I would have danced and laughed and cried with elation. I would have called out, "Yes, it's me, Rarity! I'm here! I was trying to find you and instead you found me! You rescued me, just like you did when we were little!" But instead, I simply nodded and purred like I'd never purred before.

"And you remember me?" she asked, incredulously. I nodded again. Rarity sat speechless for a few seconds before an array of emotions played across her face, but to contrary to my expectations, none of them seemed to resemble anything positive. She stared pensively down at her hooves, looking to be thinking a million thoughts, before one emotion finally settled on her features: guilt. It wasn't an emotion I'd seen many times before, but I knew the kinds of feelings it implied, and my heart broke when I saw her eyes begin to glisten with tears. I didn't know what was going on or why my presence instilled feelings of remorse, all I wanted was to make her pain stop. I brushed against her, wrapping my tail around her foreleg as if to say, "Don't cry, Rarity. Everything's going to be alright, I'm here now." Thankfully, this had the desired effect and she nuzzled me back affectionately, sniffling a little.

"All this time...I'm so sorry, Opalescence...I owe you an explanation." I paused my attempts at comforting her when I realized I was being addressed by something besides "cat". I'd never had a name before, Ironhooves hadn't bothered and nopony at the palace could keep track of us anyway. But Rarity had given me one, and I have to say, it suits me well. Rarity levitated a hoofkerchief over and daintily wiped her nose. "I was so taken with you that day I saw you in the window, the minute I came home I came up with a plan to earn enough bits to buy you and tried to find a way to keep you hidden." Rarity sighed and her voice suddenly sounded much older, but she never took her blue eyes off my green ones.

"I did everything I could think of: lemonade stands, doing extra chores around the house, even selling one of the first dresses I'd ever made. My father felt guilty for not letting me have you, since you were all I talked about, and he ended up buying me a stuffed animal that resembled you. I was going to name you Opalescence after the way you're fur refracted the sunlight, so that's what I called it and I kept it next to my bed to be reminded of you every day." Rarity pointed to her nightstand, and there sat a cheap imitation of my beautiful self. "I wanted to visit you so badly, but I thought it would only make it harder on myself to want what I couldn't yet have. It took me several years, a filly could only make so much and the shop owner was asking a high price for you." Well, what can I say? I am a catch.

"I even sent a telegram requesting that he keep you for as long as it took, and to consider you sold. I guess he really did." Well, yes and no. Ironhooves may be true to his word but he also had the memory of a goldfish. An old stallion can only remember something for so long, and six years proved to be his limit. So that's why I wasn't snatched right up. And here I thought it was because nopony deemed themselves worthy enough to be graced with my presence. Maybe that still could've been the case. I wasn't sure how to respond so I just continued staring up at her. Rarity took this as a sign to continue.

"I kept working and eventually I'd almost made enough. I was so eager to see you again. But then..." Rarity paused, feeling her composure slipping, but she drew in a ragged breath and willed herself to continue. "But then my sister became so ill...nopony could figure out what was wrong with her. Hospital bills began piling up...my parents needed the money and I...I..." Her face contorted in something akin to despair and she picked me and hugged me like somepony was going to rip me from her hooves at any moment. "Oh, Opal, please forgive me!" The tears were flowing freely now and Rarity dabbed at her eyes, she had started wearing mascara by then and it was running down her cheeks in watery black streaks. I was helpless to do anything but nuzzle against her, trying to provide as much comfort as I could, trying to make her see that I understood. That I forgave her with every fiber of my being.

But what was I supposed to forgive her for? For selflessly giving away the bits she toiled away her entire foalhood working for? For giving up her dream of obtaining me just to see her baby sister smile again? Never, in all that was good and holy would I blame her for that. I would've waited an eternity, had I known that I would be in the presence of somepony who was the living embodiment of what it meant to be generous. Rarity stroked the top of my head and scratched behind my ears, and I stared straight into her eyes and willed my gaze to convey all the forgiveness, love, and admiration that I didn't have the privilege of putting into words. I don't know if Rarity understood, but something spurred her on.

"After that, I started all over again. I'd waited three years already, what was another three? Sweetie Belle recovered and was back to her usual self in no time. By then I was old enough to open my own boutique and the income starting pouring in. Within the next few years, I'd made it to the point I was at before. I was closer to you than ever..." Rarity stood up abruptly and retrieved something off one of the shelves. It was a big glass jar filled three quarters of the way with bits and the words BITS FOR OPALESCENCE printed in delicate cursive.

Rarity glanced at it with a melancholy smile. "I'd say within the next month or so, I would've been able to adopt you, but instead I find you on the edge of Ponyville with one paw in the grave!" Rarity said, in a way that sounded like a mother scolding a child for running off too far. "How did you manage to end up out there?" I blinked. Surely that question was rhetorical. Rarity chuckled to herself and directed that sad smile at me. "I know you can't understand me, you're just a cat and I don't have Fluttershy's ability to talk to animals, but I just want you to know how sorry I am. You probably thought I abandoned you, but not a day went by when I didn't think about you. I've missed you so much, my darling Opal." This was another moment were I both wished for, and was thankful cats couldn't cry, because I would be shedding just as many as Rarity was. Instead, I could only run towards her and leap into her arms, purring all the while, as if to say, "I've missed you too, Rarity. More than you know. But we're together now, the past is behind us." Rarity beamed, a smile so bright it's light could've reached the farthest corners of Equestria, and she kissed the top of my head, echoing my thoughts.

"It doesn't matter now anyway, does it? Fate somehow found a way of bringing us together, and I'm going to make things up to you. First off, I believe we were never properly acquainted." Rarity put a hoof to her chest and gave a slight bow. "I am Rarity, but you may call me anything you like." She winked at me, clearly amused by her own joke, one that I felt would carry much more humor if she knew I could understand her. "That little filly was my sister Sweetie Belle, and this...." Rarity made an all-encompassing gesture, "...is Carousel Boutique, your new home! What do you think? I know it isn't much now, but soon it will be the most highly regarded boutique in Equestria!" I thought it was the most beautiful home I'd ever seen, and I'd lived in Canterlot Castle.

We spent the evening making up for lost time, keeping each other company as the wind howled outside, spattering the rain against the window. I couldn't believe we had another rainstorm scheduled after the downpour a few days ago. Rarity brought me more cat food and this time with a bowl of cream, something I'd never had before, not even in Canterlot. It tasted like liquid heaven. Rarity skipped dinner and instead set to work on making me a collar. I watched her, completely fascinated by the entire process, I knew a seamstress in Canterlot but I'd never seen her work. By now, I've seen Rarity make clothing so many times I'm sure I could do it myself.

As night fell, we both grew tired and curled up on the bed. Rarity held me in her hooves, pulling me close against her as I fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of my life. I drifted in pure blackness, for the first time in six years no dreams of Rarity danced across my mind. They weren't needed anymore now; they had finally come true.

And that, fillies and gentlecolts, has brought us to now. I'm still curled up on Rarity, slowly rising and falling with her gentle breathing. It's been many years since then, and Rarity and I have experienced the usual trials and tribulations of any companionship. We've grown older and wiser to the ways of the world. My infatuation with Rarity has tapered off some now that my younger starry-eyed years are behind me, and I'm able to see reality in a clearer light. Rarity, like any non-cat creature, has her faults and we do have...rather frequent spats. That isn't to say I haven't grown to recognize my own flaws now that my ego isn't quite as over-inflated as it was in my youth. I know I can get in her way and I know I take my anger out on her when it isn't needed, but I wouldn't trade Rarity for anything in the world. We're still two diamonds cut from the same block, and just like diamonds, the strength of our bond is one that can never be shattered, if there are times when that strength is tested. Sometimes I wonder how our lives would have been different if the chronology of events had changed ever-so-slightly. But "what if's" are never something to be dwelled on, and out of all the ponies in Equestria, I thank Celestia every day that she was the one that happened to be walking through Ponyville that day.

A few hours have passed since I began my tale and the first rays of Celestia's sun are pouring over the countryside, bathing it in a golden-orange glow. Rarity has begun to stir and soon she'll be awake and fretting over whether or not to use turquoise or cerulean trim.

Sometimes I wonder if she remembers what exactly she told me that day, how much she believed in what she had said about becoming famous, building me a palace, and being with me again. By now, I believe Rarity may be on the precipice of achieving great things; she's starting to become more and more recognized in the fashion industry and there's something else that waits for her on the horizon. I can't quite tell what it is yet, but by now I'm able to tell when somepony's destiny is about to be unveiled. I'm already proud of her and I know that pride will only continue to grow. I'll tell you one final way that Rarity and I are alike. All those years ago, I had one single dream, and Rarity had one amongst her dozens, and it was a dream we would've sacrificed anything to achieve. No matter how much doubt or interference from the world we encountered, we never gave up or forgot about each other until we were together again. Even though Rarity is capable of speaking, and I'm capable of understanding her, I don't think either of us will ever be able to comprehend just how much we need each other. How much we made each other's dreams come true.

I'm still waiting on that palace though...

**Author's Note:**

> The only thing I love more than Rarity is cats, and I was a very happy teenager the day I found out Rarity had a cat. Not just any cat either, a shaded silver Persian exactly like mine, who is sitting in my lap as I type this. I tried to base Opal's personality off of my own cat, Snowball, with a few bits of Rarity's personalty thrown in there as well. The beginning and end of the story are set a few months before season one. Rarity meeting Twilight, becoming an element of harmony, and helping to save the world was the big thing Opal sensed what going to happen to her. I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope everyone enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


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